694
THOMAS THE RHYMER
[Part
And he beheld a gallant knight
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.
Come riding down by the Eildon Tree.
He was a stalwart knight, and strong;
Of giant make he 'peared to be:
He stirred his horse, as he were wode,[1]
Wi' gilded spurs, of faushion free.
Of giant make he 'peared to be:
He stirred his horse, as he were wode,[1]
Wi' gilded spurs, of faushion free.
Says—"Well met, well met, true Thomas!
Some uncouth ferlies show to me."
Says—"Christ thee save, Corspatrick brave!
Thrice welcome, good Dunbar, to me!
Some uncouth ferlies show to me."
Says—"Christ thee save, Corspatrick brave!
Thrice welcome, good Dunbar, to me!
"Light down, light down, Corspatrick brave,
And I will show thee curses three,
Shall gar fair Scotland greet and grane,
And change the green to the black livery.
And I will show thee curses three,
Shall gar fair Scotland greet and grane,
And change the green to the black livery.
"A storm shall roar, this very hour,
From Rosse's Hills to Solway Sea."
"Ye lied, ye lied, ye warlock hoar!
For the sun shines sweet on fauld and lea."
From Rosse's Hills to Solway Sea."
"Ye lied, ye lied, ye warlock hoar!
For the sun shines sweet on fauld and lea."
He put his hand on the earlie's head;
He showed him a rock, beside the sea,
Where a king lay stiff, beneath his steed,[2]
And steel-dight nobles wiped their e'e.
He showed him a rock, beside the sea,
Where a king lay stiff, beneath his steed,[2]
And steel-dight nobles wiped their e'e.
"The neist curse lights on Branxton Hills:
By Flodden's high and heathery side,
Shall wave a banner, red as blude.
And chieftains throng wi' meikle pride.
By Flodden's high and heathery side,
Shall wave a banner, red as blude.
And chieftains throng wi' meikle pride.
"A Scottish king shall come full keen;
The ruddy lion beareth he:
A feathered arrow sharp, I ween,
Shall make him wink and warre to see.
The ruddy lion beareth he:
A feathered arrow sharp, I ween,
Shall make him wink and warre to see.
"When he is bloody, and all to bledde,
Thus to his men he still shall say—
'For God's sake, turn ye back again,
And give yon southern folk a fray!
Why should I lose the right is mine?
My doom is not to die this day.'[3]
Thus to his men he still shall say—
'For God's sake, turn ye back again,
And give yon southern folk a fray!
Why should I lose the right is mine?
My doom is not to die this day.'[3]
"Yet turn ye to the eastern hand,
And woe and wonder ye sail see;
How forty thousand spearmen stand,
Where yon rank river meets the sea.
And woe and wonder ye sail see;
How forty thousand spearmen stand,
Where yon rank river meets the sea.
"There shall the lion lose the gylte,
And the libbards[4] bear it clean away;
At Pinkyn Cleuch there shall be spilt
Much gentil blude that day."
And the libbards[4] bear it clean away;
At Pinkyn Cleuch there shall be spilt
Much gentil blude that day."
